


Playing Dead

by suicidejane



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Angst, BAMF Carl, BAMF Michonne, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Epic Battles, F/M, Forced Marriage, Forced Orgasm, Happy Ending, Hurt Michonne, Major Character Injury, Major Character Undeath, Major Original Character(s), Major character death - Freeform, Negan is a dick, Plot Twists, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Plot snuck in, Porn With Plot, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sad Ending, The Hilltop (Walking Dead), Walkers (Walking Dead)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-17
Updated: 2016-12-07
Packaged: 2018-08-09 07:20:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7792066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suicidejane/pseuds/suicidejane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Michonne must pay the price...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Michonne lay on her back gripping the rough sheets of the bed beneath her. Her body jerked as the person above moved further inside her for what felt like the millionth time. She hated this existence she was trapped in, but for now, this seemed to be her life. The last line of defense she had was her mind. Michonne always had the power of psychological warfare and she thanked whatever god there was that she still maintained that.

"Oh fuck woman, you are still unbelievably tight," he groaned in her ear, capturing her earlobe between his teeth.

Michonne forcibly stopped herself from pulling away as he sucked at her ear. She loathed him.

"Behave," he murmured slowing his thrust.

Michonne felt the sting of tears flood her eyes, she knew what was coming next. This was one of his favorite parts. He took great pride in breaking her down over the years. The literal hell that she had traveled to at the hands of this man was incomprehensible. He had bested her to the final strands of resistance, for the sake of survival she had done things that had changed her. At this rate, what was the point of survival?

He hiked her thighs up further, and she winced at the feel of him slipping further into her, not that she thought it was possible.

"You feel that baby," he cooed before kissing his way down her sweaty chest. They were practically sticking to each other due to the condensation.

She did everything she could to not make eye contact and there were countless nights that she had lost herself in the cracks in the ceiling. Imagining that she was small enough to slither through to freedom.

His slow calculated thrust were hard to block out, he had prepared her body for the taking but her mind was still locked away in depths of herself. But, there were times when he was able to break through her armor and torture her further. He completely stilled himself inside her, gripping her face he made her look at him.

Both had their share of scars at the hands of the other person, but the ones unseen were more prevalent on Michonne.

"Look at me, I own you. I own you, Carl, Judith, and Reagan. The four of you belong to me and if you don't get with the program I will make an example out of those kids, starting with Reagan."

Michonne watched his face knowing that he told many jokes but few lies. The kids were all she had left, he had killed everyone from their group but her, Maggie and the kids. Maggie had taken her life shortly after the miscarriage of her son. She could no longer handle not having Glenn and death of her baby were too much so one night she climbed to the roof and walked right off. It killed Michonne but she understood why Maggie did what she did, and had it not been for the kids she would have ended things too.

He kept them locked away from her in the beginning until he could gain her compliance. He forced her to participate in demeaning acts. Making her hate herself for the way her body was reacting to him. He did things to her that shipped her off to sleep some nights, and waited when he woke her up in the middle of the night.

"Please," Michonne pleaded fighting for her surrogate children, for her own child.

They hadn't been there for a long time when she found out she was pregnant and he was pleased to know that he had done that to her. It troubled her deeply to know that Negan had gotten her pregnant so fast. She remembered the day her water had broke, it was too early. She had promised herself throughout most of her pregnancy that she wouldn't love it. This baby was a means to an end, a way to save Carl and Judith. The moment the water breached, thoughts of the unborn baby filled her heart. Sherry coached her through it. Negan had made Carl wait, for that she glad. If something had gone wrong, she didn't want for Carl to put another mother down. It was a girl, she was so small and helpless. Regan was her daughter and looked every bit like her which pleased Michonne greatly. But as of late he had been trying for a boy, he wanted to name it after himself, an heir to the throne.

"You don't want me to use them as walker bait then I suggest you show me how much you want me," Michonne combated the scowl that was rightfully forming at her brow.

She wet her lips before he leaned in and captured her lips in a searing kiss. She whimpered as he rotated his hips, grinding himself into her. The sloshing sounds of their union could be heard in unison with the wet smacking of their lips.

Michonne knew what came next. Unballing her fist she released the worn sheets beneath her and raised her shaky hands to his wide back. He wanted for her to touch him, outside of beating at his chest she tried not to touch him. He continued his work, no longer still but moving in and out of her, making sure to roll his hips to gain the jerky noises from her. Releasing her face he slid his hand down to cup her breast.

No! Her eyes bulging for a moment as he cupped and squeezed her breast. Heavier now and filled with milk, the plump mound was soft as he kneaded it between his fingers. His hard flesh moved in and out of her well-lubricated opening. He pulled away and smiled at her knowing that he was going to get the best of her. Michonne couldn't bare his cocky smirk a moment longer, and with that, she leaned up and spit in his face.

A mocking silence passed between them as they locked eyes, even if it was on two different spectrums both felt very alive. Michonne felt so very aware of herself and him at the moment. She could see him and all his glory as the fire reflected the orangish red on him, she could smell the pungent evidence of their union seeping from between them, she could taste him on her tongue marinating deep into the folds of her buds, she could hear the ragged deep breaths he took against her ear and she could feel the raging head of his shaft stabbing her over and over. He had branded her, he had done it a long time ago but Michonne worked hard to combat him.

He smirked before gripping her wrist above her head arching her back to him. With that, he slammed into her over and over grunting every time he stuffed himself in her tight canal.

With her heavy breast shaking violently with every stab he watched her pert chocolate nipples strain for relief. He knew that the right one had his name written all over it. Leaning down he took her angry nipple into his mouth and began to suck.

"Arrggg!"

Michonne cried out as she felt him take the bud into his mouth and slurp harshly. Seconds later the liquid began to flow, milk that was reserved for Reagan ran into his mouth. Michonne bit her lip to keep herself from moaning. He drove himself in and out of her still latched to her tit like a baby himself.

He was never soft or easy, he always fucked her and, at least, she could be thankful for that. He never treated her like a woman he loved, no he treated Michonne like a whore during sex. She appreciated that from him because the last thing she wanted to feel between them was love.

"You fucking cunt," he raged out of nowhere as he studied her despondent glare.

He wedged his hand between the two of them and moved his fingers against her clit, she was a bundle of nerves that was about to come undone. That was the strand that broke her back, her following actions would propel her nightmares. Michonne bucked against him, her hips bouncing back and forth in an effort to regain that familiar high.

Her body was a traitorous thing when it came to pleasure. In these dark times any bit of pleasure that you could find, you had to savor it. This was how she spent her days gripping the sheets in unwanted ecstasy or in numbness and fear.

Fear, that was an old feeling that she had buried deep, she thought she wouldn't have to welcome it anymore. Fear was during her helpless days as a child not being able to stand up to the bigger kids. Fear was when the initial outbreak happened and there was little she could do to protect her first child. Fear is now when the groups worst enemy spent his days humping her into oblivion. That type of fear you could taste, wild against your tongue, coating your senses.

Here she was, fearing another deliciously horrible orgasm, that would catapult her into a nightmare of shame and guilt.

His fingers rubbed rapidly at her nub as he pistoned in and out of her apex. She could feel herself tighten as her body went rigid. He pumped her body riding her through her climax until she collapsed.

He watched as her dark brown body heaved and shuddered, her chest glistened with the mixture of their sweat and her lactation. She was gorgeous and while still buried deep within her center he realized he wasn't done.

Michonne felt herself being gathered and dragged to the edge of the bed. She felt the cool air hit her wet bottom and she moaned. Without warning, she was flipped onto her stomach never feeling him detach from her core.

He propped her hips up gripping her butt cheeks in his strong grip. She turned her head to the side seeing the large mirror where she got a glaring view of his assault on her body.

"Look at us Chonne, you're my whore and you're loving it. Do You like my mirrors? I was thinking about putting some on the ceiling so you could see yourself. No more running away gal, you're gonna be looking at every moment of this."

Michonne grunted at his words her hands balled into fist clutching the sheets for support.

"I bet you ain't ever get fucked like this before," he bragged pumping in and out of her wide spread legs. "You hear how wet your pussy is for me, I bet Rick couldn't get you here! Hey, if we have a boy I'll think about Richard for a middle name."

She didn't know if it were natural instinct or her mental toughness waning. She felt herself starting to break.

"Please stop, no, get off me! I can't do this, get off me! NOOOOO," Michonne screamed in a shrill cry that filled the room.

Her arms and legs started to flail underneath him and like a cowboy whose horse decided to take off, he grabs hold her dreads in one hand and shoulder in another and takes off. Releasing her shoulder he took that opportunity to slap her ass painfully. He begins bucking wildly into shoving as much of himself as he into her.

"No, stop, get off me, I'll kill you, stop it, I don't want this," Michonne screamed as her body began to seize again. The slippery sounds from her pussy became unbearably loud. Their sloppy mess coated her thighs and pooled beneath them on the floor.

"Nope, you're mine," he groaned before flipping her over again, he wanted to see her cum. She took a moment to scoot back away from his powerful body but he had other ideas.

Michonne raised her fist and began to beat on his face but his arm shot out and caught her throat in his intense grip. He dragged her back to the edge of the bed where her thick toned chocolate legs were spread out like an offering to him. Her full breast heaving with her cries, the graceful crane of her neck and plumpness of her lips. He finally reached her eyes and knew that he had finally broken her, after two long years, he was finally scratching the surface of making her his.

He dipped his head and took a whiff of her heady odor that emitted from between her legs. Michonne shuttered as he blew into her hot opening. He moaned in absolute jubilation his candor for her was undeniable. Dragging the tip of his nose down her slit she shook at the sensation it gave her.

"Delectable," he stained before planting his face in the center of her crotch.

He lapped at her core, his tongue digging into her wet center made him whimper. He gripped her hips and pulled her until he was neck-deep in her lap. Michonne was seeing spots as he drank her essence that rushed from her. Her body shook with euphoria as he sucked and nipped at her lower lips. Her hips began to rise from the bed as he feasted on her. Michonne's shoulders and hands which gripped the sheets were the only parts of her the remained on the bed. Her eyes popped open wide as coke bottles as he sucked on her clit. He felt her shake in his hands before he felt a gush of liquid leave her and come flowing out. Feeling him indulge in long licks, Michonne felt herself becoming weak. He pulled away and took a gander at his work. Michonne lay flat on the bed, exhausted but he wasn't done.

He gripped her hips and hiked her legs wide and settled himself in between them. Positioning himself at her pulsating heat, he called to her.

"Remember, you're property of Negan," he commanded before pumping into her at a slow commanding pace. Never breaking eye contact he drove into her, studying her reaction every time she was filled with his meaty cock before he retreated, only to return again.

"No!"

"Yes, no one can save you, not Abraham, Carol, Daryl or your precious Rick! You've failed them all and now this is your life," Negan countered slowing his thrust down, even more, savoring inch of her vaginal tunnel. She fit him like a glove.

He leaned down and captured her lips. Michonne whimpered as he explored her mouth with his tongue. She wanted nothing more than to bite his tongue clean off but she thought of the children who would surely pay the price if she behaved so recklessly. For the sake of the only people, she cared about she kissed back. Negan growled and seized her with vigor, resting his entire weight on her he shoveled as much of himself as he could get into her. It was his turn to meet his completion as he felt himself swell within her.

"Pull out, please, I'll swallow it, please," Michonne pleaded with him in an effort to avoid pregnancy, she didn't think she could do it again. He paused for a moment and looked at her thoughtfully, Michonne started to sigh.

"Nah, I want a son," Negan gloated before propelling himself inside her so violently they found themselves in the middle of the bed again.

Michonne began to curse the harsh liberties he took with her body and her body's acceptance of it, as she began to feel herself tighten once more. Her thighs hiked up around his hips clasped tightly ready to take him with her. A few more pumps later and Negan exploded in within her, flooding her womb with copious amounts of sperm. The feeling of his musk filling her set her off as she two erupted as their juices mixed and mingled for what felt like the millionth time.

They both rode the waves of post orgasmic bliss before finally slumping. Michonne felt him rest his full weight on top of her. Still plugged inside of her, Negan was soon snoring as usual. Michonne was left there to gaze at the ceiling and memorize the cracks. Before she knew it, it would be a mirror on the ceiling with nowhere to run.

Her eyes twitched as she gazed up, thoughts of her old community, friends, and lover flooded her mind. Negan was right, she had let them down and she deserved to pay the price, this was her price. All she had left were the kids and if nothing else she had to push forward for the kids. With him, she would have to settle for playing dead.


	2. 2.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A glimpse into his and her story...

Negan thumbed the rim of his glass, the whiskey sloshed at the bottom. He watched Michonne with the kids in the middle of the floor. One could easily mistake them for a family. Michonne cuddling the babies in front of the fire, and himself sipping from a small glass in his rocking chair. The only eyesore was Carl who was scowling at him with his back to the wall. To be honest, he understood the gripe the kid had with him, he really did. When he was a man and decided he wanted to challenge Negan, then so be it. For now, Negan demanded respect. 

“You got something you want to get off your chest boy,” Negan sneered cutting his eyes at the young man erect against the wall. 

“No,” Carl spat struggling to control his tone, his voice shaking. 

Negan stood and walked the distance to Michonne who quickly gathered the baby and pulled Judith to her side. Negan still focused on Carl lets his hand brush the side of her face. He watched as the young man flinched as Negan caressed his surrogate mother. Carl made it clear the night Negan almost snatched his other eye out that he’d kill him when he got his chance. 

“Michonne? Michonne, where are you, girl?”

Michonne popped up as Negan called out to her from the hallway of his compound. She was rocking Judith to sleep as the child patted Michonne’s growing belly. Carl sat to the side of her his hands clasped in front of him. She watched Carl’s knuckles turn white at the force of his clenched fingers. 

“You’re not some dog, he can’t treat you like this,” Carl croaked, voice broken and strained. 

“Just breath, take your sister, you know he won’t hurt me,” Michonne assured as she passed the toddler over to his waiting arms.

“He already has,” he countered looking at her growing belly with an indescribable expression on his face. 

“We’re in this together, I need you, Carl,” she said pulling the boy back in with her words. 

“Don’t worry mom, I won’t hate it, I don’t hate you,” Carl said fore longingly as he opened his tense posture. 

Michonne hated herself for putting Carl in the position to be submissive but she had to keep him alive and Negan wouldn’t think twice about gutting him. The way he shot Rick in front of the boy was a sure fire clue as to what he would do to Carl given the opportunity. 

After the death of Rick, Michonne had grandfathered his children and vowed that she would make a life for them. In the past when she didn’t have to think for them solely she would have sliced Negan in half. Now that Judith was practically attached to her hip her power moves had to be a bit more calculated. She needed to gain Negan’s trust so his takedown could be when he least expected it. Then what about his devoted followers? She needed a way to gain their trust and allegiances if she was gonna take him out and live to see the next day. This was all about the long game and it would be a while before she would be able to make some power moves. She was making some ground but she had a ways to go. 

“Here are my girls,” Negan belted from the doorway as he watched his “family” huddled on the loveseat. 

“They’re not your girls,” Carl mumbled in return. Michonne made a grab for his knee to silence the young man but he forged on. 

“Come again?”

“They’re NOT your girls, none of them are,” Carl repeated, this time in an even tone that shook Michonne to her core. 

Carl didn’t have the patience that Michonne had fine tuned even before the apocalypse ravished the earth. No, he never understood why either of them would bow down until it was time to strike. He had only known to strike while the iron was hot and for him, it was on fire at this point. 

“Carl, please,” Michonne begged through clenched teeth. 

“No! You don’t belong to him, you’re not his property,” Carl shot back never taking his eye off Negan. 

Standing, no longer holding Judith, Carl stood, tight fist balled up at her side. 

“You’ve got some nerve boy. When you had no place to go I took you in and gave you a roof over your head and food to eat. Yo’ daddy gone boy, y'all was up the creek with no paddle. I saved you, hell I’m your daddy now,” Negan announced pointing a finger in Carl’s forehead. 

Michonne couldn’t breathe as the barrage of crazy floated out of Negan so easily she thought that it may have been a mistake on her part. Maybe he hadn’t said it. By the look on Carl’s face she knew that the next few seconds were critical, she had to act. 

“Negan, one of your men came up looking for you, they were talking about some sort of breach and needing you,” Michonne voiced in hopes to end the violent standoff. 

For a moment it did because Negan glanced at her for a moment and smiled. Carl couldn’t take it. He reached into his back pocket and unearthed his knife.

“Carl no!”

It happened so fast. Carl’s wrist flicked as his arm jutted forward preparing to stab Negan. Carl didn’t factor in the man, the pre-apocalyptic school teacher who the new world hardened. Negan was prepared and almost warmed by Carl’s defiance. His ping pong skills didn’t fail him, as his right hand caught Carl by the throat and his left gripped his wrist tightly. The knife dropped to the floor and Negan placed a heavy boot on top of it. 

Michonne watched in horror as Negan began the careless task of choking the life out of Carl. She scrambles to her feet preparing to barrel forward when Dwight wraps his arms around her. 

“Let me go,” she screams, struggling against his vice grip. 

“Calm down, he ain’t gonna kill him, but you need to stay out of him,” Dwight whispered in her ear sympathizing with the woman who was losing her mind.

“He needs me!”

“No, he and Judith need you alive, you go charging over there, Negan will gut you without thinking twice. Sit!”

Dwight eases her back onto the couch and making sure to never release the hold he had on her shoulders. Judith loud wails echo in the room as the two men struggle in front of the raging fireplace. 

Carl grunted as he clawed at the tight fingers crushing his windpipe. He did everything in his power to keep the tears at bay but he began to feel like that was a losing battle. His lungs made a last attempt to reach for air that came out in more of a shrill cry, making Negan laugh. 

“Boy, you are weak, you are nothing, and I could kill you right now,” Negan chastised as he jerked Carl around like he was ragdoll. 

“Negan stop it, please!”

“You see that woman, she is the only thing that is keeping you and that little girl alive. See I don’t see the point of keeping some dead man’s bastards around, if I had it my way, I would have fed you to the Wolves by now. She loves you and her pussy hypnotizing. So as long as her legs stay open you stay alive.“

Michonne gasped at the vulgarity of his words, while Dwight looked away.

“Now be a good boy and nod your head if you understand me,” Carl squinted at the harshness of his words. Negan shook him again and Carl knew it was time to concede. 

Negan dropped Carl in a coughing heep on the floor. Dwight released Michonne and she went diving for Carl, covering him with her body in hopes to protect him from another blow. 

Carl could barely see, his vision clouded by tears and his ears pounding by the surge of pumping blood. He felt Michonne pull him into her lap and he wrapped a weak arm around her. Still not having proved his point yet Negan snatches Michonne off the floor and into his arms. Carl raises his head to look up at the two. He tries to stand but ends up staggering back down to his knees. 

“You see Carl, she belongs to me, every inch of her and if you play your cards right you’ll live long enough to have a girl like this of your own. What kind of girls do you like Carl? We have all kinds of girls here? What kind can I get you?”

“Go to hell,” Carl managed to whisper. 

“Hopefully, these lips will keep me company while I’m there,” Negan hoped for as he pulled her chin up and captured her lips with his. 

His tongue slithered past her thick lips and just like every other time she could remember Negan took control. He turned her until they were pelvis to pelvis, damn near glued to each other. Michonne groaned in contempt as he took handfuls of her backside, being absolutely deployable in front of her children. 

Carl looked away knowing that he was too weak to do anything to stop him. He’d bide his time and when the moment showed itself he wouldn’t miss his opportunity. 

The kiss itself was getting pretty heated as Michonne’s knees had long since buckled and it was only Negan who was responsible for holding her up. With her arms lips at her side, she put up no fight against him. It was Negan who pulled away with Michonne gasping for breath against him. 

“I’m going to kill you, even if it’s the last thing I do,” Carl vowed in a voice so quiet it shook the room into complete silence. 

“Yeah well, in the meantime, Dwight take the kids, mommy and daddy need some alone time,” Negan growled as Dwight quickly gathered the children and scurried out the room. 

Dwight pulled both Carl and Judith into his chest to block out the sounds of her fabric tearing and cries echoing throughout the hallway. 

Negan gazed around the dinner table as his closest comrades and family and talked amongst themselves. Everyone else ate at the surrounding tables in the mess hall. After how Rick and the others from the Safe Zone almost destroyed everything the Saviors had worked so hard to build he had any and everyone who thought of double crossing him that it wasn’t going to happen.

He would always remember that night, the look of defiance in their eyes. He struck Glenn first bludgeoning him with Lucile and then he ordered the execution of the others, one by one they were all killed. Rick was saved for last but in that moment Negan saw man broken; instead of a meeting with Lucille, he decided one bullet would do. He didn’t know what it was about Michonne that made him keep her alive but after he watched her throw herself on top of Carl, he then claimed her for his own. 

Now they set at the table together breaking bread like nothing ever happened at all but Negan was no fool. He knew that Michonne was plotting against him and he was ready for her. Negan looked over at Judith who looked to be around five and Reagan who was eight months old. Carl sat between him and Michonne in an act of protection, it made Negan chuckle. The boy who was no longer the scrawny kid he choked out was tone and wiry. Carl had grown up nicely and even with the patched eye, his good looks didn’t go unnoticed by the young women in the camp. 

He watched Carl sneak glances across the hall, to a group of newcomers. Negan followed his line of sight and noticed that he was watching a young lady. She was a dark copper toned complexion with short curly hair. Oh, he likes her. Leaning over to where Dwight sat on the other side of him, he whispered in the man ear and watched Carl as Dwight stalked over the girl. He watched Carl grit his teeth and loose fingers tighten into a fist as Dwight fetched the girl and her tray. Dwight sat the girl down in front of Carl and next to Negan. The girl was timid and looked to have been to hell and back.

“Hi, I’m Negan, what’s your name,” he said to the girl in a low voice hoping not to scare her too much. It took her a few moments before getting up the courage to look up at him.

“Egypt.”

“That’s a pretty name for a pretty girl,” Egypt says nothing in return. “I asked Dwight to go get you cause you looked a bit lonely.” 

“I don’t know those people, I had just met them the day before we got here.” 

“Well, welcome to the Savior's let me introduce you to everyone, this is the fun table by the way,” Negan joked throwing in a wink for good measure.

After the introductions were made Negan leaned back and marveled at his work. Carl and Egypt had found a common interest in comic books. Egypt even whipped out a graphic novel she was reading called the Walking Dead; a story involving a group of people surviving an apocalypse, oh the irony. As his eyes scanned the table they rested on Michonne whose gaze was transfixed on him. He winked at her.

Later that night Michonne lie a bit more relaxed in his arms gazing up at the ceiling. Now looking more so at the groves and valleys than slipping through the cracks. Negan gripped her naked midriff before applying a chaste kiss to the top of her head. To unknowing eyes, they resembled a couple in post-orgasmic bliss. 

“Dinner was good tonight, huh?”

“Shelly did a good job as always,” Michonne whispered into the darkened room as Negan rubbed circles in her back. 

“Carl had a good time, Egypt is nice.”

“Oh, so you care.”

“I just want you to be happy.”

Michonne didn’t say anything but he felt her body stiffen up a bit. He wanted to make things right but he knew it would take everything he didn’t have to see that through. For now, he would settle for her contentment. 

“Get some sleep,” Negan whispered as he burrowed deep in the mattress with him nestled on top of him. 

Seconds later the alarm went off, alerting everyone. Someone was breaking into the compound, someone was about to change their lives forever.


	3. Chapter 3

6 Hours Before the Attack

They had been watching them for over a year. Getting the plans down to a science with zero room for error. These events had been set into motion since the moment the truth had become as clear as still water. Rick Grimes lost the fight at the hands of a monster who stole away his family for his own bidding. He had let Rick down more times than he could count, watching him be the hero while he took refuge behind the King's County Sheriff.

His lungs enlarged with the woody oak that drenched the wilderness of Virginia. Gone were the days of smog spewing machines, it was the dawn of a new age. Anything was possible if you were able to keep yourself alive for the next sunrise. That was true prior to society collapsing but that sentiment meant everything, now more than ever.

Standing at the hilltop above the main compound, he watched the people below wander around completing their various activities. He adjusted the back on his back and a toothy grin swept across his face. It wouldn't be too much longer. He couldn't decide if it was equal parts rescue mission as it was an extermination. He had intel from out of the compound, intel that told him that his family was secure but Michonne was caring for a baby, Negan's baby. The joy he planned to have slitting the baby's throat right in front of him; it was perfect.

"The wait won't be much longer now," Spencer said from a few feet back.

With only a grunt to act as a response, Spencer continued, "You know what to do. I'm gonna head back just don't derive from the plan, Negan is to not be trifled with. We'll wait for your signal, remember killing Negan isn't our priority."

This time Spencer was met with unyielding silence which is nothing new in his time with this man. They had shared memories and stories after the decimation of the Alexandria Safe Zone. His mere existence had shook Spencer to the bone. The moment he laid eyes on him, Spencer had to do a double take because it was as if someone you thought you knew, rather a familiar face you had never seen before crawled back out the bowels of Hell. It was a sure fact that if you made it that long, there was no way God was letting you into Heaven.

Spencer didn't make the move to leave before he took in the sound of nature's calming hand before they brought about the storm. He clasped a comforting hand on the man's shoulder praying that it gave him strength to complete his mission. The man turned to face him which always made Spencer's gut recoil at the sight of it. Heavy stitching tamed a wound that ran from his eyebrow to the middle of his forehead; Spencer's mind always lingered on war movies when he had to look at him. Even with his long hair swept in front of his eyes, without his baseball cap the man looked downright terrifying.

'I hope this works, don't worry guys, we're coming,' Spencer thought to himself as he hugged the man and began his journey back to camp. His heart went out to the lost Michonne Judith and Carl who had been trapped behind those walls.

As Spencer parted ways with the other man, the two minds began to drift back to the where it all started, the day they decided to exact revenge for the people of Alexandria; for Rick's people.

One year and six months ago…

It started as a whisper, murmurs and rumors of a group that traveled from state to state beating every obstacle that dared to stand in their way. It was inspiring to hear from the handful of survivors had encountered them and lived to tell the tale. In times like these, when you hear that type of folklore you have to find the source. Bathe in its truths and sins in hopes that it washes you anew. He would always recall when he had come to learn of this group and all they had done, thanks to a lost girl in the woods.

He didn't know how or why but he woke up on the forest floor but his head hurt like no other. His fingers clutched at the pliable earth beneath him and pushed himself up. A bolt pain that crashed into his frontal lobe sent him back. It took time for him get mobile and darkness had fallen by the time his feet were sturdy enough to hold him up.

It took him stumbling into someone's camp for him to realize that he had been shot, a woman screamed loudly.. He was about to be blasted again when the young woman who didn't look older than fifteen hesitated when pulling the trigger.

"Are you one of them?" she whispered her jaw quivering from the shock of it all.

"Help," he managed to whisper before collapsing into the makeshift fire pit.

When he awoke for the second time he was way more comfortable this time around and surrounded by warmth. He touched his head when he felt the dull ache instead of the sharp pain. He didn't want to get too comfortable in the pile of blankets but the feminine scent tucked in. It wasn't until the waft of food smuggled his senses and forced him out the tent. His body still felt like it weighed a ton but the fact that he was able to support himself was enigmatic.

There he found her crouched over the fire pit he had fallen in, she looked plenty more intimidating clutching her sawed-off shotgun last night.

"You're awake," she spoke offering her back but her voice carried as if she was standing right in front of him.

"Yeah." He had found his voice that was trapped in the depth of his chest, and as it surfaced the sound felt hollow and foreign to his tongue. He ended up spitting out more of his word than actually speaking them.

"You hungry?"

"Yeah."

He and the girl, because he was no longer willing to deem her woman due to her lack of maturity even if she did help him. Sat staring at one another the the lingering flames attempting to restore its once glory now phasing out. Through the smoke he was able to study her face. Her appearance was made up of clothes that swallowed her small frame. It was her face that captured him. She presented a cold and unforgiving demeanor but her eyes were far too innocent for heavy malice. Her wild curls hung loosely at her shoulders, her skin brown as earth embellished by a undertone of gold; this girl was a true angel forgotten by God.

"What's your name?" He shrugged his shoulders in response to her, not because he was being an asshole but because he really didn't know.

He had racked his brain for what felt like a million times but he couldn't make out any concrete memories outside the wisp of images and the barely lucent names. Even with foreign names like Carl and Lori that seemed to sail around his head like ships without an anchor, none of them felt like his own. So when she asked for his name he resigned to dropping his shoulders and her casting pity on him.

"Yeah, I bet you don't remember, you were shot in the head, I'm shocked you walked to my camp. I not surprised you hardly remember anything."

He found himself smiling at her, amused with her whimsical eyes that darted over his form.

"What's your name?"

"Egypt," she spoke confidently not breaking eye contact with the man.

"That's a funny name."

"At least I know mine."

"What are you doing out here by yourself, it's dangerous," he interrogated earning a glare from Egypt.

"I'm faring better than you but if you must know, I'm looking for home."

"What do you mean? Why did you leave in the first place?"

Egypt smacked her forehead at his words, completely baffled at his effortless ignorance.

"No, my home is gone, everyone who mattered to me is gone, I'm looking for someplace new I can call home," she said softly.

"And that's somewhere out here in the world," he offered uncertainly.

"Bingo Sherlock...oh that's what you remind me of!"

"What do I remind you of?"

"A cop; you're whole demeanor screams law and order. You're acting like if I don't give you the right answers quick fast and in a hurry you're gonna call CPS."

The man smiled at her wit but when the word cop flew out her mouth he felt his heart just. Maybe he was a cop at one time or perhaps he knew one.

"I think I'm gonna call you Sheriff, at least until you remember your name."

"What makes you think I'm sticking around here too much longer kid?"

"Well, I'm the one with the loaded gun and you can barely walk straight so I don't see you going anywhere any time soon unless I tell you to," Egypt snapped burying the rest of the fire under a heap of dirt.

"Way to respect authority kid."

"If you haven't noticed Sheriff the world has gone to shit."

He laughed before settling himself further down on the log he was perched on, while he watched her canvas the area.

"So, tell me more about this home you're looking to find, is it anyplace in particular?"

"Why? You interested?" Sheriff shrugged his shoulders but looked ready to receive the story that would set him on a course for destiny.

In the ghost of flames Egypt wrapped a blanket around him before beginning the story of a group of people she called the Survivors led by a man named Rick. Rick and his group battled through the city of Atlanta, a town led by a psychopath and lived, a group of cannibals, all before making their way to Virginia to settle in the safe zone. Sheriff hadn't known there was a safe zone anywhere but Egypt had appeared certain about it's existence. He had inquired about the veracity of her story, to which she cited a couple of wanders who had spent time with either Rick or the group. He didn't know why every time she mentioned the group his chest grew tired at the pounding of his heart but the more Egypt talked about them, the more he wanted to be apart of them too.

She had ambled from Tennessee to Georgia where she met a scary but admirable woman named Carol who shared stories with her. Carol had taught her quite a few things about survival and was set to bring her back to the group. One day they had gotten separated while fleeing a herd of walkers. A person dumped her in the trunk of a car and took her away from Carol. It was the last time she had seen the woman. She was kept locked in a room of what looked to be a hospital until she learned to behave. She didn't know how long she was there but she was able to make a friend in a young man named Noah who snuck in to visit her.

Noah made sure she didn't lose her mind and he convinced her that it wasn't so bad in that new place, she would just have to do as she was told. Egypt began to behave and was soon let out the room. Months later there was a new girl named Beth, who made fast friends with her and Noah. Beth spoke of Rick's group and Egypt quickly spilled all she knew resulting in the three of them having talks of escape and reuniting with the group. A few nights after Egypt was asleep and was attacked by a guard and knocked unconscious. She woke up some time later to discover that Rick's group had come and gone; Noah went along with Beth's dead body in tow. She decided from that point on that bad things happened at night.

Egypt eventually left the hospital vowing to never look back. She was allowed to leave with supplies and she remembered what Carol had taught her, so she took what she needed. Stashed in her bag was a complete book of maps which she used to find a place Beth had seen when she was wondering in the woods. A place she felt her "family" would go, Terminus. When she got there she saw a black man who was as much a wanderer as her but he too seemed to be searching. Egypt quickly found herself tracking him, always a few hours to a day behind, following him from one place to the other. On one occasion that he left his stuff at his campsite she found a message to the man from Rick on a map and knew that it was destiny that she followed him. That's just what she did, followed him through state after state until they hit Virginia. Egypt felt pretty good about her tracking skills until she ran into the Wolves. That night she had come to a campsite that she was sure Morgan left in a hurry. It wasn't until she was chased by strange men with 'W's on their forehead did she realize that she had lost any possibility of finding Morgan. Egypt began to curse the night.

Sheriff was without breath as he listened to Egypt's account of her travels and the tales of the group. By the end he felt like he had been every step of the way. He could hardly stop the tears as they burned at the back of his throat.

"I'm with you kid, what direction did you see him headed in once you got to Virginia," Sheriff questioned pulling the blanket tighter around him to soothe the shiver.

"North East, I saw that DC had been circled on the map so when you're ready we can hit the road," Egypt explained.

"First light?" Egypt smiled and nodded at the man.

Sheriff studied Egypt for some time, watching her head bob up and down as if she was fighting to stay awake. "Get some sleep kid, I'll keep watch."

She nodded and retired to her tent, only slightly alarmed that she wasn't more fearful of the man who stumbled into her camp the night before, with a gunshot wound in the head. He looked like hell but being around him was the closest thing she had felt to home since Carol.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm posting the next few parts in increments so it's...easier to understand. I posted it in one chunk on the other site. There I could edit the font but no big deal. ENJOY!


	4. Chapter 4

4 Hours Before the Attack

Spencer rested against one of the massive oak trees some miles away waiting for the signal so he knew when it was safe to approach. His stomach tossed as he went over the plan again in his head, everyone had a job to do, he just wished he wasn't stuck as the getaway driver.

They had watched Negan for a year now and had begrudgingly come to the conclusion that taking on the army behind those walls would be the worst mistake they could make. Their plan had morphed from a search and destroy to a search and rescue. They had to be covert and work fast because the slightest hiccup or change in plan could result in them being found out. Spencer had thought through everything down to a T, so airtight that Daryl, God rest his soul would be proud. He thought back to a year ago to when it had all started.

One year and three months ago…

Spencer still remembers the stench of the burning bodies singe his nostrils. The ache in his chest as he gazed at the charred remains of his community members. He wouldn't have believed it was them, had it not been for heads that had been mounted on long wooden poles. The painful process of burying the people he had come to see as family. Sasha and Aaron hurt the most; Aaron because he had been in Alexandria for so long and Sasha because he never got to say he loved her. All the bodies were accounted for except for Maggie, Carl, Michonne and Rick. Maybe Negan kept them as souvenirs.

By the time he had returned back to the Safe Zone the Saviors had already began to ransack it. People were dying left and right. He didn't know what came over him but seeing their heads mounted and the screams of the community members made him turn yellow. He hightailed it; Spencer ran until he couldn't run anymore. By the time he had returned to the community everything had been burned to the ground and there was no one left. His parent's vision, the one people died to preserve was gone because he was too chicken shit to defend. He didn't go with Rick to find Negan and their missing and he didn't stay when his town was being attacked so there he was back to square one sifting through the ashes. All that was left intact was ironically was a picture of Michonne, Rick, and Carl. He remembered he had to hold Judith because she wouldn't sit still for the picture.

Judith?! The baby had been left in the care of Gabriel who was found hanging on a makeshift cross in front of the church. There were savior bodies everywhere, Gabriel had done his part in defending their territory but it hadn't been enough. He came to the conclusion that either she had been taken or killed. He shuddered to think about the alternative. Spencer wanted to believe that there was some good left in those people but he knew better.

He was so lost in his thoughts he didn't hear the approaching footsteps or feel the hand that clasped his shoulder. He almost jumped clean out of his skin. Had some returned? Was this it? He didn't even have a gun so when he fell against the earth he did show with his eyes tightly shut. He waited for the blow that was sure to end him but when it didn't come he went against every instinct in his gut and took a peek.

When he looked out he was met with one of the most beautiful faces he had ever come into contact with. It was a young woman sporting a sweet smile and a man scowling not too far behind her. He appeared to be willing to do what it took take him out if he had to.

"Who are you?"

"My name is Egypt and that's Sheriff, we're looking for Alexandria Safe Zone, was this it," she asked in a shaky voice as she gazed around at community that had been brought to its knees.

"Why are you here or what's left of here," Spencer implores rising to his feet ready for whatever was to happen next in the event that these people became violent.

"We're looking for Rick and his group of survivors. I'm aware that they've settled here at one point and maybe they've moved on. Do you know where?"

Spencer was skeptical to say the least. Who was this little girl and her "guard dog" asking about his people as if they were on official government business.

"What business do you have with them?"

"We've come a long way and it would be nice to know that none of this was in vain," she cautions as Spencer fixed his gaze on the man hoisting a machete over his shoulder while clutching a shotgun in the other hand.

Spencer couldn't make out the man's face that well, he sported a tattered old baseball cap that tucked low over his eyes. He had a confident build despite his weathered appearance but it was his demeanor that took the cake. He had a no nonsense attitude that spoke volumes as to why Spencer couldn't take his eyes off of him. He was just as captivating as Egypt.

"She talking to you not me," the man said in a heavy Antebellum accent he had become so familiar with.

"I'm the only one remaining of that group, everyone else is dead," Spencer said displaying all the cards leaving nothing to strategy.

"What?"

Spencer frowned as he watches the young woman collapse to her knees, tears pouring out of her eyes like rivers. Spencer watched as all chances of hope left the building. Her wails and cries turned into gasps for breath and before he could reacher her the Man of Mystery scoops her up.

"I see you're somewhat low on shelter but I need to get her somewhere safe," he grunted, ordering Spencer around.

"A safe house but that's a bit far for a walk, I left my car by the lake, come on."

They walked until they came to a clearing which use to be the town square and a woman standing in the middle of it.

"What the hell kind of day is this," Spencer whispered to himself as they warily approached the woman who had her back turned.

He studied her profile; slouched thin shoulders tucked in a petite stature before taking off to her screaming her name.

"Tara!"

The woman whips around so fast she almost hits the ground but she is soon knocked off her feet as Spencer crashes into her.

"Spencer," she cries out from underneath him. The two embracing each other as if it were the first and last time all over again.

Spencer heard his car door open followed by hushed words, he was sure the man had gotten the girl to calm down.

"Where have you been?"

"I went on a run, the day you left, I wanted to make sure that we had everything we needed incase it all went to shit."

"By yourself," Spencer chastised having pulled them both to their feet.

"Yep, and look how good that did us, everyone is dead," she whispered taking in the sights of the town that once was.

"Your presence here wouldn't have made made a bit of difference," he insists pulling her into another hug.

"Did you find them? Everyone? Where are they?" Spencer allowed himself to keep his gaze fixed on the ground as the questions mounted.

"Dead," Spencer confirmed as he watched Tara go blank.

What Spencer always found fascinating about the group that entered his community was their disposition when it came to life and death. To them both were fleeting and necessary; a chance at either was both a gift and a curse.

"What now?"

Spencer motions to the newcomers waiting at his car.

"Who are they?"

"We're headed to the safe house, I'll explain on the way," he said ushering her to the car while motioning for the other two to get in. He was pleased to see that there was a spark, even as tiny as it was, Egypt still had hope.

"There's a safe house?"

It took some time but the four reached a small cabin in the woods. Spencer led them inside and down to an underground bunker. Within that were supplies and weapons, enough to facilitate an army. Tara especially stood there with her mouth agape.

"How long have you known about this place? Did Rick know?"

"No, it was my mother's idea, a bit of an insurance policy, only she, myself and my dad knew about it."

"Did you ever plan on telling us," Spencer relinquished a pensive stare and Tara knew the answer to her question.

"So what now," Egypt answered from the behind Sheriff.

"I followed Negan's people," Tara admitted in a guilt stricken tone.

"What?"

"I was coming back from the run and before I could get close enough to the gate, there were people; a lot of people. I saw that one of them had Judith so I followed, I didn't know what I was gonna do if I got close enough. I followed them to their compound, and I saw Maggie, Michonne and Carl being held but I didn't see Rick or anyone else."

"You saw Maggie, Michonne, and Carl? They made it out!"

"They were handcuffed but relatively unharmed. Maggie was on a stretcher, she didn't look so good. What happened to the others? Are they coming?"

"No," Spencer answered her in a short curt tone.

"What do you mean? Tell me the truth Spence."

Spencer took a deep breath and gathered the images of their comrades piled limbs that melded together in chards. Their heads mounted on poles jammed into the ground. He recounted the memories of him having to fetch the bodies of their neighbors only to bury them nearby.

"And Rick, is he, is he gone," Tara questioned only to be met with a wall of silence. It took some moments for Spencer to find his voice.

"Would they have let him live?"

Tara and Egypt had tears in their eyes while Sheriff looked on with pity. Not having much relations with anyone outside of Egypt that he could attach himself to. Spencer looked utterly exhausted by the end of his tale. Egypt looked around at the somber faces and then like a bulb she lit up.

"We could get them out! We could rescue them."

"Excuse me."

"We could watch them and stage a rescue. I mean no one from his camp saw you Tara and I'm sure no one tracked us here. So all we have to do is- "

"Kid that sounds great and everything but you have no idea what we'll be up against. The last time we went toe to toe with Negan we didn't come out of it so well," Spencer tried to reason with Egypt feeling his heart pull at her excitement.

"But we can right, they're family— I mean they're your family."

"I think we've had enough of this basement, lets go back up and get some fresher air."

Spencer rallied the group back up to the ground floor and they all gathered around a makeshift living room. Soon they all began their stories of how they arrived at this place, survived in this new world filled with monsters whose pulses beat stronger than the ones in their veins. Spencer and Tara were captivated by Egypt and Sheriff as tales of the group they had never met flowed as easy as water. When it finally came for Spencer's turn Tara and Egypt decided to go make dinner but Sheriff remained vested in the story. By the end Spencer retrieved the picture frame out of his jacket pocket and showed it to Sheriff.

Spencer watched the man study the picture, it was like he had seen a ghost. Before he could even react Spencer watched as Sheriff flew back from the table moving wildly about the room clutching on to his head for dear life. The girls raced from the kitchen and the three of them stood in shock as they watched him flail about the room. Egypt was the first to move, and by the time she had made it to him Sheriff had slid to the floor.

"What's wrong?" Sheriff pointed weakly at the picture on the table.

Tara grabbed the frame and cautiously presented it to him. Spencer held his breath as he watched Sheriff point to Carl and Rick then himself. As if he was trying to send a message that his mouth couldn't deliver. He ripped off his hat revealing the hideous gash that had. sown up with thick black thread. Once Spencer was able to look away from the man's forehead he was now able to focus on his entire face.

"Oh my god," Tara cried out backing away from the man. Egypt was the only one highly confused.

She grabbed the frame to study the image only to compare it to the man in front of her. She didn't see why this would make the three of them freak out. Then Spencer guessed she was taking in the uncanny resemblance.

"No fucking way," Egypt whispered out in the shell-shocked room.

It was a night full of revelations, as 'Sheriff' recounted his past, connecting it to their harsh present. Spencer thought as he stayed guard that night with a shotgun staring at the picture not believing the sheer luck. There was no way something like this could have been a coincidence, right?

Spencer looked up only up to connect eyes with Sheriff, wrapped in limbs of Tara and Egypt. He stared back at Spencer and as if they were thinking the same thing, the two men nodded.

Falling out of the memory as quickly as he fell in was cathardic. The plan was becoming concrete. They couldn't let their friends rot in that hell hole. Come hell or high water, Spencer decided that night that if it meant his life he would die for them. This time, he'd protect them all.

Spencer took a deep breath before settling into his spot, ready to wait out the signal. It was almost poetic that it had been three years to the day of the Savior attack. Tara had snuck into the prison and had been casing it for weeks. He prayed on the nights they hadn't received contact from her, too afraid she had been made by his people.

On the nights that the radio transmitted messages from her, he wept praises to her. She had been gone for seven weeks before turning up randomly, pale and exhausted. She revealed to him that Maggie had died or had been killed and that Michonne bore a child. That night Sheriff went berserk. Something about this baby had been bothering Spencer. Tara managed to get pictures and something about the baby didn't sit right with him. Maybe it was her age or the way Tara described her eyes she caught a glimpse of one night.

He was shocked and proud of how close she was able to get, Glenn would be proud. Sheriff was having no parts of this baby and wanted her dead. Spencer didn't mind the kid, even if she was Negan's, it didn't matter so long as she came from Michonne. But Sheriff was having no parts of that baby and he was sure as shit that he was gonna make Michonne and Carl see things his way. Spencer could hear the edge in his voice and knew that he needed some type of contingency plan for the baby; he was lucky that Tara and Egypt agreed.

Tara expressed her deep seeded lack of faith that stemmed from Negan's well armed militia. She was adamant that there was no way that could just waltz in to get their group or get out for that matter. It was little Egypt who begged to differ. Her and Sheriff battled for days regarding her selfless plans that would land in lion's den alone and unprotected. No matter how much her plan made sense Spencer didn't feel right sending in a kid, their little girl. Not after they had heard her story, felt her pain, no he wasn't down for that.

Armed with a radio and pack Egypt left them in hopes of infiltrating the compound. She had left a note and was amazing at covering her tracks, clearly a student of Carol. She radioed in, that she had found a group of people who were willing to bring her in. The group was nomadic traveling from place to place with no real direction. Egypt lured them closer and closer to the Savior compound, during that time it was dead air. It had been almost two weeks and no word from her. They were going out of their minds. Tara suggested that they stick to the plan, that if she got in that she wouldn't be able to use her radio outside of giving them the signal. It was mere hours before they were prepared to move in and still no word. They were running out of time.

Suddenly, an approaching car caught his attention. Spencer crouches for his weapon ready to fire at the could be enemy. Their headlights were low and due to the darkness he couldn't decipher the model or make. It wasn't until it came within a few yards did he start to relax. It was Tara. He almost returned to his stance of comfort had he not noticed to two other figures in the vehicle. His M4 Carbine locked and loaded he positioned himself to shoot at the ready.

Tara was out the car first with her hands high in the sky.

"Spencer, Jesus man put the gun down!"

"Who is that with you?"

The passenger door and back door creek open and two sets of hands are raised in surrender. This action does little to settle his erratic nerves.

"Don't fuck with me!"

"Nobody is fucking with you Spencer, please put the gun down," a new voice called out to him. This voice wasn't new, as a matter of fact, it chilled him to the bone.

The headlights shown his face, tears clouding his shot but he no longer felt the two individuals were targets.

Tara motioned for her passengers to step closer to him, slow and cautious even though she was sure the immediate threat had ended. As the three figures stepped in the bath of headlights, revealing them much clearer, Spencer all but dropped his gun.

"Look who I found literally wondering on the side of the road. I was going back for my radio when I found them," Tara croaked unable to keep the emotion out of her voice.

"How are they alive?" Spencer chokes out not ready to address the elephant in the room directly.

"They were never there during the attack, they were safe, lost but safe."

"Do they know?"

"She filled us in on the way here, what can we do?" The second voice answered tired of being talked about and not talked to. Like being hit with cold water, Spencer snaps back into reality.

Spencer pulled them both in for bone crushing hugs. Hoping to meld their bodies into one person so he'd never have to worry about losing another person he loved again.

Fastened to the strap of his belt the blinking red light on his radio gave several more burst before fading out.


	5. Chapter 5

2 Hours Before the Attack

Egypt had been trying to get back to her temporary quarters since dinner. She needed to get to her radio. She had been traveling with the nomads in close quarters unable to contact anyone from her group…wow she had a group now. Sheriff, Tara and Spencer were her group, they had accepted her into their fold. She would do anything to secure the safety of her family. Their group had to make it, even if she didn't. If sneaking off in the middle of the night to go on some goose chase then so be it. She couldn't get the stern looks oozing from Spencer and Sheriff, she just wanted to do whatever she could.

Tara had spent weeks scouting the prison only to arrive back to them devastated. There was no way for them to sneak in and get contact with Carl or Michonne without being recognized. Egypt knew that there was a way, she was the only person that had never had contact with any of those people and being close to Carl's age she could pass along messages to him. She had yet to forget the tongue lashing Sheriff gave her via radio transmission with Tara giggling in the background but she wouldn't let that stop her.

This had to be fate, pure and tangible fate that would knock you clean out if you didn't catch it. She had been picking at her food with the group she had arrived to the compound with, staring down Negan's table. Mostly she gazed at Carl, she couldn't take her eyes off of Carl. He was gorgeous and plenty more filled out and weathered than that picture Spencer had shown them. He looked harden and cold but when his sight caught hers the two were locked in a stand off. This wasn't the type of stand off that lead to blood shed but type that made the blood hot. She felt herself come alive when he looked at her and she didn't even notice as one of Negan's henchmen came to collect her. If from far away he was a dream then up close was even better. Carl was enamored with her and Egypt almost spilled the beans, there at the table.

With dinner over she watched as everyone went their separate ways, but she made sure to stay glued to Carl's side. She was almost out the door with a woman named Sherry grabbed her shoulder.

"Hold on lover girl, you my dear must help with the dishes. That's the rule," the blond woman ordered her, halting the groups progression.

Carl managed a sympathetic smiled but spared her no other look before collecting the black baby and heading out the door. As Sherry shooed her off to the tables, Egypt noticed Negan taking the white toddler from Michonne who was more than reluctant to hand her over. He made kissing faces at her and she laughed. He made a comment to the baby about being a, "Daddy's girl". Egypt scoops up the dishes into a nearby plastic washing tub but she keeps a steady eye on the makeshift family by the door.

"Rick and Michonne had a baby together," Egypt asked Tara one night as kept watch one night.

"Both Carl and Judith are hers," Tara countered with a small smile.

"Carl's white and they don't have a picture of Judith," she whispered back.

"Listen, all you need to know is that they have a kid that is as much Rick's and she is Michonne's. To be frank with you, Carl is damn near hers also."

"Okay. We just don't talk about her much. I just want to know what to expect when I meet her, I mean them."

"What? You think you won't be Daddy's little girl anymore," Tara scoffed as she motioned to Sheriff who was dead to the world on the couch.

"Whatever," Egypt said as she turned to face out the window.

Tara got behind her to whisper in her ear, "Don't worry sweetheart, you are family and nobody can take that from you, no matter what."

"What if they don't like me?"

"Impossible."

As her eyes darted around the makeshift family she began to hyperventilate at the site in front of her. The white baby was at this point a child, she was definitely Judith. The other one, the black one was a little harder to place. She looked a lot older than just turning two. Before the turn both her parents had been pediatricians and she had spent countless hours at their joint practice. She had been raised around babies. She knew the process of incubation thru birth better than some doctors.

All night she had been making mental notes of both of the small girls and something about the development of the small girl wasn't right. But she needed more information. Something was amiss and she hadn't made contact in a while. If she didn't act fast, their plan was going to hell. She knew that Sheriff was a ticking time bomb but this was something he wouldn't be able to ignore. So she scrambled to fetch the rest of the dishes and take them to the kitchen to be cleaned.

It had taken her about thirty minutes to have the mess hall clean and was quickly making her way to maze of a hallway. She frowned only hearing the echo of her deep breathing bounce off the walls and then back to her. She walked, her footsteps sounding like an impending march to doom but nevertheless she forged ahead. It was the whine of a soft child that put a pep in her step.

Not even fully turning the corner did she see Michonne walking up to Carl and Reagan, making funny faces at her. Egypt crept forward and crouched behind a stack of cots that were stationed in the hallway. It gave the perfect vantage point without being seen from either direction. Carl turned and got ready to greet her just as a panicked expression blanketed him like a body bag.

"Don't worry, she's with Sherry for the night. I'm about to grab this little one to join her," Michonne explained as she offered her hands to the child.

Reagan tucked her head in the crook of her brother's neck as she stared up at her mother.

"Way to stroke my ego homegirl," Michonne joked.

"She's just tired, too many different people holding her," Carl offered absently, his body no longer laced with worry.

"Sometimes I feel like you're the parent, not me." Carl shrugs his shoulders in response.

"So, I see you made a friend tonight, what was her name?"

"Egypt and you remember her name," Michonne snickered at her son's smart ass response.

"I was just testing your observational skills, are you looking to keeping company with her later. If you're looking to court this girl you've got to be a gentleman. You can't go galavanting off to her room in the middle of the night," Michonne pried as her daughter finally jutted forward to receive her mother.

"Wow!" Michonne frowned at the unveiled amount of shock on his face.

"Keeping Company? Galavanting? Who are you and what have you done with my mother."

"Times have changed, it's not like you kids have your cells phones to fall back on. You're gonna have to talk to her."

"I never had a cell phone," Carl resorts cooly folding his arms.

"Wow! Really?"

"My dad believed in face to face communication," Carl confessed as he reminisced. The pair glanced at each other before saying in unison, "You can't pull the wool over my eyes if I'm standing right in front of you."

Egypt blushed at the mentions the two had made about her and was thoughtful in regard to Rick's words. She leaned into the wall and watched as Michonne cooed over the baby; Carl watched passively but Egypt noticed the glint in his aura grow.

"It's crazy that she looks more and more like Judith everyday," Michonne admired as she stroked Reagan's fine hairs.

Carl's head snapped up as rage sweeps over his face like a soft breeze. Egypt watched as his loose fingers curl tightly into his palms.

"No she doesn't, and I don't like you saying that."

"It's okay Carl, sometimes when you end up spending a lot of time with someone you end up looking like them," Michonne marvels softly as to not agitate the young man in front of her.

"She's not my sister."

"Carl-

"No, she ain't no sister of mine, not when she has his blood," he challenged his voice ragged with his chest heaving.

"But she is my daughter, and I've always thought of you and Judith as my kids. I don't want you to hate her, it isn't her fault."

"It isn't her fault. Like it isn't my fault that you decided to lay down with him," Carl shot back so furiously that Egypt had to catch the gasp that almost escaped her.

Just as quickly as he said it, the look of shame and regret set on his shoulders almost baring him to the ground. Michonne schooled her face as she gazed back at him emotionlessly. Carl looked as if he were scrambling for the right words but a hand inches away from his mouth halted all means of an apology.

"Let's get something straight. You are so young and know so little of what life can do to you, to people you love. How when your back is against the wall, you are willing to do whatever it takes to survive. I'm sorry that life didn't deal us a better hand that you've had to face more trials than any child should but you will not throw my means for survival in my face. I will do whatever it takes by any means necessary for you three to survive. You see this little girl, if something were to happen to me it will be your job to look after them BOTH. Because that's what family does for one another. Do you understand me?"

A silence passed between them, the rage caged inside Michonne and the sorrow welling up inside Carl was too much for the spacious warehouse hallway. A door swings open and out comes Negan who stops dead at the cloud of tension choking the hallway.

As if to snap out of a trance both Michonne and Carl parted ways, Carl looking more butt hurt and shamed than anything. Michonne eased passed Negan and through the door he had emerged from prior to. Egypt takes a moment before taking off to find Carl.

'Where did he go that quick?'

She searched the ground level of the compound—well as much as the armed guards would allow. She managed to find her way back to her bunk and found her walkie talkie. Egypt took inventory of the empty room and made sure to lock the door. Tucking herself into a corner, she adjusted the antenna and hit the push to talk.

"Egypt to base," she whispered making sure to dial down the volume.

For a few agonizing moments there was nothing but static. Her heart dropped as she thought about their lack of communication. She hadn't been able to radio in and for all she knew her people could be dead. A paralyzing fear crept inside as she thought about the possibility of Sheriff having died. She paced her breathing as she waited.

"Base to Egypt," a voice sounded through the receiver.

Egypt crumbled into a mess of tears as Sheriff radioed in, his voice coming through chopped but sounding nothing short of heaven.

"I'm in and I've made contact with Michonne and Carl."

"Good girl, stick close to Carl, when we get there I need for you to step up and take control."

"Okay."

"Are you well?"

"Yes, are you mad at me? I'm sorry for leaving but it was the only way. Is everyone okay?"

"I know. Yeah, we're all fine just worried about you."

"It's almost over, then we'll be home free."

"Keep the radio on you, we'll gonna proceed with the plan. Be ready to give the signal when the time comes."

"Copy that, over and out. Good luck."

"Over and out."

Egypt sighed clutching the radio to her chest. Her chest moving up and down in relief that flooded her being like a tidal wave. She checked her watch and saw that it was 30 minutes until the hour. That was enough time to find Carl and make some magic happen. Egypt just hoped that she believed him, that he would understand the he needn't take revenge; they could just leave this place.

Now her feet had wings because she had a purpose, a mission. Hidden under her baggy military jacket she felt the tap of her radio on her bottom with every step. Egypt was getting close to the loading dock and the further she drifted the more armed individuals she saw, that made her nervous.

When she makes eye contact with an approaching group, she seizes. Dwight lurches toward her, as she contemplated whether to flee back in the other direction or assume the role of wallflower. Before she was able to answer, Dwight called out to her.

"Egypt, now what can I do for you?"

"Um…I was looking for Carl," she answered shifting feet as a heap of nervousness sunk itself into her shoulders.

"Young love," Dwight retorted with a creepy smile that made her skin crawl as his eyes swept the length of her body.

"Have you seen him?" Egypt asked in a small voice as she folded her arms over her chest to make herself feel bigger that what she was.

"Cargo Bay, now you kids remember to behave alright," Dwight advised as she slipped passed him.

Egypt nodded and borderline ran for the double doors that led to her destination. Inside stacked wooden crates practically swallow the room. She soon spotted Carl perched on one of the ledges looking crestfallen.

"Carl," he jumped at the sound of his name being called.

"Egypt, what are you doing here?"

"Looking for you," Egypt answers smoothing as she eased her way toward him. She notions to the empty space next to him and he smiles and nods.

"Looking for me eh," she nods and chuckles.

"You're like the only other person here my age who doesn't look like they think this is Wonderland. You don't buy into all of this," she confessed staring at the ground below as he looked at her.

"Well, if you don't buy into any of this, why are you here?"

"The road sucks when you run out of leave-in conditioner and you can't charge your iPod," Carl burst out laughing at the young woman who smirked triumphantly.

"Clever."

"Thanks."

The two sat in silence for a minutes as they listened to people move around him as if they weren't there. The quiet was nice and easy, Egypt even went a step further and scooted closer to him. Carl smirks and folds his veiny arms over his broad chest.

"What happened to your eye? Why are you wearing a patch?"

"Straight shooter aren't you," he jokes laughing darkly.

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

"I got shot, anymore questions?"

"So how long have you been at the compound? Is Negan your dad or something?" Egypt said coyly.

Carl snorts.

"That piece of shit is not my father."

"Oh."

"What about you? How did you end up with that group you came in with?"

"Well, before the turn my parents are pediatricians and when everything went down we took to the road. A lot of bad things happen and for while we were okay but then my mom got sick and my dad got sick and I had to put them both down. And then it was just me, by myself and I've encountered people, great people I wasn't able to stay with but hey that's life. So before I knew it I found that group and the next thing you know I found the compound."

"You had to put both your parents down?"

Egypt smiled grimly as sadness flooded her. Carl placed a comforting hand on her back in sympathy but Egypt shrugged him off.

"Well, what about you that asshole isn't your dad then what happened to your real one?"

"Negan happened," Carl gritted out tersely.

"Your mom?"

"She died having Judith and I had to shoot her in the head so she didn't come back," Egypt gasped at his admission and grabbed his hand in solidarity.

Carl studied their joined hands before intertwining their fingers. Once again the two fell into a comfortable hush. Alas, Egypt felt a gnawing scratch against the back of her neck. There was something she couldn't let go, something she needed to know in order to put the pieces together.

"Um, Carl I have to ask you something?"

"What?"

"Your sister, when was she born?"

"Judy? Man, that was a long time ago, she's like five now."

"No, not Judith, Reagan, when was Reagan born?"

"Why?"

"Just tell me." Carl stares at her in blatant confusion but licks his lips before speaking.

"About two years ago, like in either August or September. It was still kind of hot outside."

"Then she would've been under developed, there's no way, that's not possible."

"The midwife thought the same thing, it's super crazy how healthy she was when she came out. How do you figure she would've been under developed?"

"Tara says you were taking in February, there's no way that she would've been a full-term healthy baby in six months," Egypt rambled as she connected the dots.

"That means that she isn't his baby! Carl don't you see what this all means?"

Egypt stops when she realizes that Carl has disconnected their hands, that he is now staring at her, his one eye wild in distress. Egypt tries to laugh off the tension that permeates the air like a stench. Carl looks at her and frowns. His body is stiff as his eyes sweep over her form like a cool breeze. The frown deepened into a scowl. Uh oh…

"What? Is there something on my face?"

"Who are you? What are you doing here?"

"Carl-," Egypt begins before he raises his hand to silence her.

"Why do you keep asking about my family?"

"It's not what you think," Egypt confesses as Carl rises to his feet and begins to widen his stance.

"Why did you say Tara's name? Why do you care so much about Reagan?"

"What color were his eyes Carl?"

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Now both teens were standing toe to toe; one furious the other bordering hysterical.

"Your dad Carl what color were his eyes?!"

It was as if time had stopped, as Carl gazed at her, his mouth agape, his words jumbled in his throat, his body rigid. Egypt claps her hands over her mouth to stop any more noise I'm leaving her body as she watched the realization wash over Carl like a waterfall. Carl's legs begin to shake as his knees buckled, kissing the floor harshly. Each of stood over him equally shocked not knowing how to comfort or guide him. The silence was no longer comforting or tranquil now it was choking, wrapping cold fingers around warm necks, neither of the two could breathe.

"Egypt come in…base to Egypt…damnit girl pick up," a static filled voice erupted from her radio hidden under her clothes.

"Who the hell is that," Carl question as fury and confusion melded together in his eye.

"Have you made contact with Carl, over?"

But before Egypt could make a move to settle either party, a blast erupted shaking the compound. The cargo bay shook and Carl had to grab on to Egypt to steady her. Moments later a calm clouded the room like smoke, causing the two teens to shake in anticipation.

Like right before a crash, you can see the car coming you know the impact is imminent and all you can do is brace yourself. And the worst cane when shrieking shrills feel the air like toxic smoke. Both Egypt and Carl looked at each other in fear as the screens grew more rampant and closer to the warehouse doors.

He grabbed her hand in the two took off running for the door that led to the receiving bay, where there was a clear line of sight of the front gate to the compound. It was there were the two teams both gas in horror as they watched a herd of Walkers flood the gates attacking everything in sight.

"Oh God, Carl what do we do?"

"We need to get upstairs to all the little kids, let's move," he ordered taking the lead as they made their way. Neither aware of the horrors that lay ahead and the unyielding doom that was to come crashing down on them like the dark of night. Because no matter how much Egypt and the group had thought through every scenario, no matter how much they had planned, they negated to realize that while they planned God laughed.

5 Minutes Before the Attack

Moving through the thickness of the wooded area surrounding the compound a figure covered and what looks to be blood and in trails hobbles forward, with two equally grotesque figures flanking behind him. He looks to be beaten invested to an inch of his life but sheer will urges him forward. Further behind the two other beings that he drags along is a horde of Walkers, migrating closer and closer toward the compound.

He releases his hold on the two walkers that he was dragging along when he approaches the clearing. He doesn't have much time, only seconds are on his side as he moves into the direction of the two guards stationed at the front gate. He moves like a cool breeze but his presence will be felt before he has heard.

"Jesus, it's cold out here man," the one guard points out, his teeth chattering as he moves around to keep warm.

"Yeah man, I need to be on a nice beach somewhere," the other agrees as he shakes both his legs that have obviously fallen asleep.

The man is barely even a yard and the two guard still have yet to be aware of his presence. He is surprised his stench hasn't set either of the two men off but the cold weather tended to lessen the impact of foul odors, even dead ones. Shouldering a tattered bag he pulls out a grenade pulling the clip he took the grenade back into his bag. The anticipation of what is to come scales over him, giving him the strength to continue his mission. He can hear the moans from the walkers as they unconsciously trudge forward unbeknownst to the two guards.

"Well boys, I hear it's nice in Nebraska this time of year," he offers in a chilling voice that freezes both men who turn and look at him like they've seen a ghost.

He takes the opportunity and tosses the entire tote bag that is filled with grenades at the wall of the gate. The two men aim their guns and he hightails it a few feet away as the bag explodes, taking a good portion of the wall and guards with it.

He smiles as the Walkers flood the gate, ready to unleash their carnage onto the unsuspecting people who lived with in the fortress. A fortress which was about to become the epicenter of destruction.


End file.
